Eurovision Fever
by quicksilversquared
Summary: When May rolled around in Paris, that could only mean one thing: it was time for Eurovision. Add together (most of) the class, one song contest, and one food-laden watching party, and you get a night full of fun, singing, and dancing...and maybe even a certain caterwauling cat adding in a bit of unexpected fun.


_A/N:_ _Yes, I know Eurovision was ages and ages ago. This got a little lost in my drafts, and so I figured- if people have Christmas in July, why not Eurovision in July?_

 _...yeah, okay, that's an awful excuse._

 _Apologies if I got any details about the festivities and whatnot surrounding Eurovision wrong! I'm not European, so any and all knowledge about Europe's famous bedazzled singing contest was acquired through a strange combination of Tumblr posts and assorted research. I'd definitely love to know if there are any things I got glaringly wrong (though due to limited internet access it might take a few days to fix anything)._

 _Let the glitter commence! :D_

* * *

The season of sequins, fireworks, tacky outfits, and occasionally questionable singing was upon them. Snack were prepped, friends and classmates were invited over to watch together, and couches were dragged around TVs.

Yes, it was time for Eurovision.

"Oh, I never watch that nonsense," Chloe sniffed when Alya (rather grudgingly) extended the invitation to her and Sabrina. "The 'fashion'- _ugh_. It hurts my eyes. And even if I _did_ watch it, why would I want to crowd around a tiny little TV in your family's minuscule apartment when I could watch it at my daddy's hotel?" With that she flounced off, dragging a somewhat reluctant Sabrina along behind her.

"We didn't want you anyway," Alya grumbled, crossing off Chloe and Sabrina's names in her notebook. "All right, we've asked everyone. Out of the entire class, eight people are coming. Sabrina and Chloe aren't, of course. Nathaniel said he was watching with his own family, Ivan and Mylène are watching with Mylène's family, and Kim wasn't interested. But everyone else is coming." A devious grin lit up Alya's face and she elbowed Marinette's side teasingly. " _Adrien_ will be there this time. His father- well, Nathalie, at any rate- gave him permission to come for the _entire_ thing."

Marinette's eyes blew wide open. "The whole thing?" She couldn't believe it. She, Alya, and Nino had tried inviting Adrien to watch the Eurovision semifinals with them, but he had been kept busy for the entire evening with a photoshoot followed by piano lessons. She had kind of assumed that the same thing would probably happen with the finals as well.

Alya bounced up and down in excitement. "Uh-huh! And he's even coming over early to help set up, so you _have_ to come over then as well."

"I'll try to get up early so I can get all of the baking done in time to come over early," Marinette promised.

Alya sniggered as they headed from the locker room towards the stairs up to their classroom. "Before noon, you mean?"

Marinette couldn't help giggling as well. "Something like that."

"Will you really need all of that time?" Alya wanted to know. "I know our party starts an hour before the contest does, but isn't that plenty of time?"

"The yeast for the bread takes two hours to rise, and then proofing is almost another hour," Marinette pointed out as they climbed up the stairs. "And then there's the cupcakes, which need to cool first before I can frost them. And then not everything cooks at the same temperature, and if I put in too much then it affects the evenness of the baking-"

"All right, all right, I get it," Alya said with a laugh. "You're making a lot and baking is complicated. My mom is helping me prep stuff for tomorrow tonight and then my dad is helping me cook everything before people arrive."

"We're going to have so much food," Marinette commented as they entered the classroom. "I'm bringing stuff, you're making things, Rose and Juleka are bringing something..."

"I think the others are also bringing stuff, but not a lot," Alya said. "Crackers and cheese and sparkling juice and whatnot."

"We're all going to be passed out in food comas by the end of the night," Marinette groaned. Still, she grinned. "It sounds like it's gonna be a ton of fun."

* * *

Marinette had just packed the last of the cookies into the last box when her phone chimed. She dusted the crumbs off of her hands and quickly rinsed them before reaching over to see what Alya was texting her this time. Her friend had been sending her updates all afternoon on the state of the preparations.

 _Adrien asked if there was any other way he could help get ready,_ read the text. _And I figured that you might appreciate a lift, so he's showing up at your place in 30 minutes. You're welcome!_

Marinette squeaked.

"What does it say, Marinette?" Tikki asked from where she sat on the counter, serving as 'quality control' (aka taste-testing everything). Her mouth was smudged with chocolate and sugar, and cookie (and cupcake) crumbs surrounded her.

"Adrien is coming over here to help me bring stuff over to Alya's!" Marinette gasped, tugging on her pigtails anxiously. "Oh gosh, and I still have to do all of the dishes, and change clothes so I'm not covered in flour, and-"

"Breathe, Marinette," Tikki advised before Marinette could get too far into her Adrien-induced freak-out. "All of the cupcakes and cookies and bread are all ready, and you already did most of the dishes. Just finish those up, and then you'll have plenty of time to get ready."

"But maybe I should get dressed first-"

"And then you might splash water on your shirt," Tikki pointed out, polishing off the scattered crumbs that surrounded her. "I'll start wiping down the counters."

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity. Marinette washed the few dishes she had left and dried them. Tikki pushed a damp rag around the counter, wiping up the thin dusting of flour that had accumulated there. Eight minutes and forty-one seconds after Marinette got the text, the kitchen was back in order.

"I don't have flour in my hair, do I?" Marinette asked anxiously as she put the last dish away. "I don't have time for a shower!"

"Not in your hair," Tikki said as she followed Marinette up the stairs to her room. "There's a smear on your face, though."

"Ooh! I couldn't face Adrien like that!" Marinette dashed right back down the stairs and into the bathroom to wet a washcloth and hastily wipe the streaks of flour off of her face. "That would be so embarrassing!"

Tikki was of the opinion that Adrien would probably find it cute, but she wasn't about to say that. Knowing Marinette, she would probably freak out, spend a few minutes squealing in glee at the thought of Adrien finding her _cute_ , and then spend another few minutes pondering the idea of reapplying the flour smudges.

Twenty minutes later, Marinette had just finished the final touches on her outfit. She had wanted to be comfortable, of course- there was no point in getting all dolled up when they were pretty much just going to be sitting on the couch for three and a half hours- but with Adrien there, she definitely wanted to look cute. She paired a cute top with an embroidered skort and combed her hair, then added a few sparkly hairpins for that Eurovision flair. She was adjusting one of the pins in her hair when there was a knock on the door below.

"Oh! Adrien's here!" Marinette gasped, and then she wasted several precious seconds spinning in place, desperately searching the room for anything she might have forgotten. She was only broken out of her panic-induced reverie by Tikki flying right into her face.

"You look lovely, now go let Adrien in," the kwami demanded. "He'll wonder what's going on if you don't."

"Right!" Marinette gasped, and then she nearly tripped down the stairs in her haste. She took several quick deep breaths (which sounded much closer to hyperventilating) before pasting on a smile and opening the door. Adrien was waiting there with a wide grin on his face and the Gorilla standing behind him.

"Hi, Marinette!" Adrien greeted her cheerfully. He sniffed and his grin grew wider. "It smells amazing in here! You look great, by the way."

"T-thank you," Marinette managed. Then she remembered her manners and why he had come. "You look nice as well. Uh, the treats are all ready to go. Would you like to come in?"

Adrien nodded eagerly and followed her inside. His bodyguard grunted and followed his charge. Adrien's eyes grew wide as they took in the boxes of cookies and cupcakes and bags of bread. "Wow, Marinette. This looks amazing!"

"Would you like to try a couple before we leave?" Marinette asked quickly, remembering a comment she had seen once or twice about the way to a man's heart being through his stomach. Then, to be polite, she addressed Adrien's bodyguard. "And would you like something, sir?"

She got eager nods from both Adrien and his bodyguard, so Marinette opened a couple boxes and let them sample. Everything had turned out well- Tikki had made sure of that- but that didn't stop Marinette from being nervous as she waited for a response.

"This is _amazing_ , Marinette," Adrien exclaimed as he swallowed his first bite. " _Wow_. Wow, okay, I'm gonna have to wait on the other side of the room until those boxes are closed again, 'cause otherwise there won't be any left for the rest of the group." His bodyguard made a noise of agreement.

"That's good to hear," Marinette said with a smile as she closed up the boxes again. She gave herself a mental pat on the back for not stuttering. She had been getting better and better towards the end of the year, but to say that she was over her Adrien-induced debilitation would be an overstatement. "Are you looking forward to Eurovision?"

Adrien was practically bouncing in place. "Yes! I've watched before, of course, but never with friends. I've looked up all of the lyrics to the songs so we can sing along, and I watched the semifinals a couple days ago- Nino recorded them for me- and I can't wait to see the final. Some of the performances are so _weird_."

Marinette couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, that's...kind of Eurovision's trademark. Weird performances."

"Yeah, but have they gotten even _weirder_ in recent years? I don't remember them being _quite_ so glittery before."

* * *

The conversation on the level of glitteriness of past Eurovision contests carried them all the way to Alya's apartment. Adrien's bodyguard escorted them into the building and up the stairs, then headed back down to the car with a gifted cupcake. Adrien and Marinette only realized after he was gone that, with the addition of the boxes the bodyguard had been carrying and the additional bags that Adrien had brought, they had no free hands with which to actually open the apartment door.

 _Whoops_.

"I'm sure we can get it open," Adrien said, shifting the bags on his arms a bit, then frowned and tried to stick the box in his hands under his arm. He had to shift it back to his hands a second later as the box threatened to crumple. "How on earth were you planning to get all of this stuff over here by yourself? I mean, I know some of it is mine, but..."

"My parents were going to help," Marinette said, keeping an eye on the box Adrien was trying to shuffle around. She _really_ didn't want it falling, since that would mean that the cupcakes' frosting would get ruined. "They wanted be to thank you for picking me up, actually. They ended up not having to rush clean-up in the bakery."

"Anytime," Adrien said, pausing in his bag-shuffling to throw a grin over his shoulder at her. "Any time you need a lift, feel free to call me."

Marinette resisted a squeal. _Adrien_ wanted her to call him? Granted, it would be for a completely and totally platonic favor, but _still_. Before she could thank Adrien, a thought struck her and she frowned. "Hey, Adrien?"

Adrien glanced back at her as he tried to turn the door handle with his elbow. "Yeah?"

"What's your bodyguard's name? I just realized that I've never asked." It was rude of her, really. She had met the man before, when he did her family the favor of driving her great-uncle to the Grand Paris for the cooking contest and when he ran errands to the bakery. He had even driven their group of friends around once or twice, and she had completely forgotten to ever ask before.

Adrien cringed. " _Well_..."

Marinette blinked, puzzled. "What?"

"I...might not know his real name?" At Marinette's incredulous look, he cringed again. "No one ever told me! And he never says anything, so I just call him the Gorilla."

"The _Gorilla?_ "

"Yeah, because he's built kind of like a gorilla and when we went to the zoo when I was younger, he spent _forever_ at the gorilla cages watching them." Adrien shrugged, looking sheepish. "And he never talks anyway, so it's never really mattered."

Before Marinette could respond, the apartment door flew open. Alya stood there, beaming. "I thought I heard you guys! Come in, come in. Wow, you guys really brought a lot of food."

"Most of it is from Marinette," Adrien said as they piled into the apartment. "I have, what? One bag? Two?"

"Three," Marinette corrected, smiling at Nino as he helped her unload the boxes in her arms onto the table. "The one with the sparking juice, that giant bag with all of the chips, and the duffel bag."

"Anyone up for a group exercise session tomorrow?" Nino joked as he put a box of cupcakes on the table. "I'm gonna gain a ton from all of this stuff."

"Rose and Juleka are bringing fruit and veggies and dip," Alya said as she unloaded Adrien's bags of chips onto the table. "Some healthy stuff. Adrien, what's in that last bag?"

"Something for later," Adrien said with a mysterious smile, nudging the small duffel bag away under a side table near one of the couches. "So, what all do we need to do to prepare?"

"Don't think for a second that I don't notice you trying to change the subject," Alya warned, but she let it drop. "I'm going all-out. We have streamers and lights and some cool lamps and this mini disco ball thing that Nino brought, plus we have to move the couches around so they all have a good view of the TV, and I want the bean-bag chairs brought from my room."

"Is the rest of your family joining us?" Marinette asked as she arranged her boxes so they were placed a little less precariously.

Alya shrugged. "Maybe for the first part? I don't know. My sisters won't stay up for the voting, that's for sure, and my parents both have to get up early for their jobs, so I don't think they'll stay up super-late either."

"So we should keep it down towards the end," Adrien guessed. "...maybe it's a good thing that Kim didn't want to come. If he and Alix were both here, we'd _never_ get them to keep it down."

Alya paused on her way down the hallway and frowned. "No, I think we should be fine. My parents have earplugs and a white noise machine, and they probably won't go to bed until the votes are being tallied. Besides, our next door neighbors have a Eurovision party every year, and I can promise you that they are _way_ louder than we're gonna be." She shrugged and then her gaze caught on the wall clock. Alya's eyes widened. "We have to get to work! Nino, come help me with the bean bag chairs. Marinette, you remember where we had the couches for the semifinals, right? C'mon, let's go, go, go!"

* * *

The tables were groaning under the weight of the food and drink loaded on them. Everyone had definitely overdone it on the amount that they brought.

"We're all going to be stuffed messes by the time this is over," Alix laughed as she snatched a couple cookies from the table. "This is enough to feed an army."

"That would depend on the size of the army," Max corrected as he straightened the platter of fruit that he had brought. "But yes, this amount of food is quite excessive when the number of people present is considered."

"Did anyone bring bags for leftovers?" Nino joked. "Because I think we're gonna need them."

"I love the decorations!" Rose enthused, inspecting the purple and blue tinfoil streamers twisting from the middle of the ceiling to the wall. "You guys really went all-out, didn't you?"

"My sisters just had their birthday party last week, so that's where some of the stuff came from," Alya admitted as Rose glanced at the lights they had hung on the walls. "And then there's some Christmas lights, and Nino brought some stuff over too. I wanted it to be fun."

"I'm already having fun and we haven't even started," Adrien said cheerfully. He had really thrown himself into the decorating. "The ceremony starts in twenty minutes, right?"

" _Fifteen_ , Agreste, don't you know how to tell time?" Alix teased before Max could chime in with an exact, down-to-the-second correction. "Or is your fancy-pants watch wrong?"

It didn't take the group long to settle on the couches with full plates of food. Alix and Adrien's plates were nearly identical, with cookies and fruit piled on precariously. _Somehow_ (Marinette suspected intervention a la Alya), Adrien and Marinette ended up sitting side-by-side on one of the couches. With Juleka also sharing the couch, there was little enough space on the couch that Adrien's leg was pressed up against Marinette's.

She was going to _explode_ , and Eurovision hadn't even started yet.

"Ooh! Goodies!"

The entire group spun around at the voice. The front door had just opened and Alya's parents were coming in, with Alya's twin sisters on their heels. The little girls' eyes had lit up as soon as they spotted the piles of cookies and treats.

"Those are for the big kids, Etta," Mrs. Césaire said, steering the girls away from the table. "We can get you guys a treat from the treat jar later, okay?"

"Oh, there's plenty to share," Alya said as both of her sisters pouted. "We'll get sick if we eat all of it ourselves."

"Okay, then, _two_ treats each because it's Eurovision night, and then go say thank you to Alya and her friends," Mrs. Césaire amended as Etta and Ella cheered. "...and _no,_ Etta, you _cannot_ have two cupcakes. I meant two _cookies_."

"Awww," Etta muttered, putting the cupcakes back. "But _muuuuuum_..."

"You would get sick if you ate all of that sugar," Mrs. Césaire insisted. "If you want, you can have _one_ cupcake and nothing else."

Etta grabbed a cupcake and gleefully retreated to the pile of pillows on the floor in front of the couches to eat it. Ella followed her with the two largest cookies she could find. Mrs. Césaire sighed and rolled her eyes but smiled fondly before picking a cookie for herself out of the pile and pulling over a chair from the dining room table so she could join the group in front of the TV. Her husband joined her a second later with a cookie of his own.

"Is it just me, or is there more glitter and sparkle this year than before?" Mr. Césaire asked as the spotlights illuminated the arena, pack with hundreds of cheering fans waving flags and signs. "Look at that! The songs haven't even started yet and it's already insane."

"Papa doesn't like Eurovision," Alya said in a stage whisper. Mr. Césaire made a face at her and her sisters both giggled. Mrs. Césaire hid a smile behind her cookie.

"It's not that I don't like it, it's just that I don't understand how _popular_ it is," Mr. Césaire grumbled. "And some of the songs- _ugh!_ They're the very worst aspects of pop music all shoved together."

"He got one of last year's songs stuck in his head and couldn't stop singing it for weeks," Mrs. Césaire stage-whispered out of the corner of her mouth, making all of the kids giggle. "He was even singing it as he cleaned out cages at the zoo."

They quieted down as the announcer started talking and introducing the contestants. Already some rather _interesting_ outfits were coming out. Marinette had pulled out her sketchpad and was absently doodling as she watched a woman twirling around in the tackiest ball gown that she had ever seen.

"Redesigning the outfits, Marinette?" Adrien asked as he craned his neck to watch. "That looks nice already."

Marinette blushed at the praise. "Y-yeah. I mean, some of them have nice ideas. I like imagining what I would do if I was in their designer's place."

"So if you had to create the same effect?" Adrien looked interested. "I can't wait to see what you come up with!"

"She already did a couple during the semifinals," Alya said. " _Much_ better than the originals. And then there were a couple things she designed that were inspired by the outfits on stage."

Adrien perked up. "Can I see?"

As Marinette showed off her designs to Adrien, the hosts introduced the contest and the French announcer started translating over top of their voices. The result, as always, was a little muddled, but it was a necessary evil so that everyone could understand.

Alya turned up the volume as the previous year's winner bounded onto stage to kick the ceremony off. Fireworks exploded over the stage as the beat dropped and the crowd cheered. Alya and Alix both started singing along, joined quickly by Rose. Juleka mumbled along. After a moment's pause, Adrien started singing along as well, quieter than the others. Through the apartment walls, they could hear Alya's next-door neighbors. Just as promised, they were loud enough to hear over the music, but since they were singing along to the same song, it just added to the party atmosphere.

"I loved that song," Alya said as the song drew to an end and the hosts went back to introducing the rest of the contest. "I don't really know if I like any of the ones this year quite as well."

"I think they just have to grow on you a bit," Nino said as he settled back onto the couch and rescued a cookie that had slid rather precariously while he was rocking out. "You've been listening to that one almost all year, of course you'll favor it."

"What position is France in?" Mrs. Césaire as the first performer started warbling out a slow ballad. "And are we likely to win?"

There were simultaneous snorts from all of the teens. "They're up second," Nino said. He didn't look happy about it. "And they've entered a ballad _again_. Somehow no one has figured out that those don't win."

"And historically, second place in the lineup has never produced a win," Max added.

"Eww, a ballad," Ella and Etta chorused, and then they wrinkled their noses. "What's a ballad?"

"Like this," Alya explained, gesturing to the TV screen. "Slow. Boring. They'll maybe get a couple points from the music judge people, but not really from voters."

"They're good for bathroom breaks," Adrien added, extracting himself from the couch. He glanced over at Mr. and Mrs. Césaire. "Uh-"

"Down the hall on the left. It's the door without a name and with plenty of stickers." Mrs. Césaire rose halfway out of her chair and pointed. "You'll see it. "

"Thank you." Adrien rounded the couch to head to the bathroom, grabbing the bag he had stashed away earlier before continuing on his way with a grin. Marinette's eyes followed him for a moment before snapping back to the TV. She didn't want to come off as a creeper, after all. It would be _weird_ to watch Adrien as he headed to the bathroom.

The first ballad dragged on for several minutes more before coming to a merciful end. They all let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

"I don't understand how some of these songs make it through," Nino said with a groan. "Like, they have to be selected by their country first, then make it through the semis before they get here. You would think that a better song would crop up at some point."

"I'm going to guess that established groups don't bother," Mr. Césaire pointed out as France's postcard played. "Is it against the rules to have a, y'know, really well known artist play for your country?"

The teens shrugged.

"It would make sense, so that people are voting for the music and not their favorite performers with a subpar song," Nino said. "But then where's the cut off for success?"

"I've never heard of most of the groups before, so maybe the cutoff is pretty obscure," Alix said. She ignored the start of France's song and kept talking. "And if they get famous because of Eurovision, that probably doesn't count. Because I've heard of people coming and back and performing for a couple years in a row."

"I like this ballad," Rose commented as the French entry swung into a sappy chorus. "It's _sweet_."

"It's _slow,_ " Alix and the twins complained in near-unison.

"Statistically speaking, slow songs are less likely to win the contest," Max said from where he had been silently observing the proceedings. "And songs sung in the country's native language rather than in English are also at a disadvantage in the voting."

"What's statistically most likely to win?" Alix asked, half-joking and half actually curious. "Glitter and fireworks?"

"Energetic, catchy songs quite often do well in the rankings," Max said, "Although the statistics may be thrown off by the sheer number of songs fitting that description that are in the contest. If there's enough of them, then of course they're going to make up a large proportion of the wins."

"Of course, of course," Alix said in a scarily accurate imitation of Kim's usual response to Max's statistics. "Anything else?"

"Songs that stir people's hearts," Max decided after a moment. "But they usually are a little too fast to be ballads, and they rely heavily on strong voices."

"This is _boring_ ," Etta complained as the singer warbled out another note. "Why is everyone so excited about this? This song _sucks_."

"Etta!" Mrs. Césaire scolded. "That's not very nice."

"But it _does_ stink," Ella chimed in. She yawned. "I thought the songs were supposed to be fun! Where are the fireworks?"

"Soon," Alya promised as France's performance drew to a close. "I think the next one is supposed to be pretty flashy."

"Glitter!" the twins cheered. Their parents both hid smiles.

"Uh, where did Adrien go?" Nino asked as the next act was introduced. He frowned at the still-empty spot next to Marinette. "He didn't get a phone call from his father or something, did he?"

Marinette was about to reassure Nino that no, Adrien had just gone to the bathroom when she was cut off by a blast of music from the TV and two voices belting out the opening line of the song. Adrien slid into the room with a grin on his face as he sang along, sliding through the dance moves along with the performer on screen as he spun around the couch. He was outfitted in a sequined jacket and pants that was just as tacky as the performer's, and somehow he had gotten several colored clip-in hair extensions attached and in place. Etta and Ella's mouths dropped open and their eyes went wide. Mr. and Mrs. Césaire muffled laughs behind their hands.

"Oh my _god_ , Adrien," Nino gasped through his laughter. " _Dude._ "

"Work it, Agreste!" Alix whooped as Adrien strutted and spun. He was really working the model, with ridiculous hair flips and exaggerated dance moves. Marinette's eyes were huge and were glued on Adrien as he spun around and struck a pose. Adrien was grinning at the attention and he kept going for the entire song, much to the delight to all of his friends and the twins. He ended with a ridiculous pose, and the whole group burst into cheers. The twins clapped wildly.

"Dude, you are so ridiculously _extra_ sometimes," Nino laughed as Adrien bowed and sat back down on the couch. "That was _great_."

"Thank you, thank you," Adrien said grandly as he bit into a strawberry. "...I practiced a _lot_."

"That was highly unexpected," Max said. He consulted his phone. "I would have predicted that there would been only a 5% chance of Adrien doing that, max."

"I was gonna suggest a dance-along later, but I don't think _anything_ can stand up to that," Alix said with a snort. Her shoulders were still shaking with repressed laughter.

"I was gonna suggest a sing-along," Nino added, "but yeah, I don't think we could come anywhere close."

"It would still be fun!" Rose exclaimed. "We should still do it. I'm not as good of a singer as Adrien, but I still like singing." Juleka mumbled an agreement.

Marinette didn't say anything. She was still stuck on the image of her crush posing with his hand on his stuck-out hip, gazing over his shoulder with a positively _dreamy_ expression on his face. Tacky outfit aside, he had been the picture of a teenage dream. He had practically been _glowing_ as he danced, lit up with excitement as he sang and danced and goofed off like a proper teenager.

Adrien was still breathing a little harder than usual as the next country's postcard played. He had hoped that his friends would be amused, of course, but he had still been nervous that they might judge him for doing something so... _undignified. Goofy._ Not very in line with the image of Adrien Agreste, straight-laced son. But they were absolutely _delighted._

(Adrien couldn't lie- Marinette's wide-eyed _wtf_ expression when he first burst into the room was quite possibly one of the funniest faces she had ever made.)

It was just luck that Adrien's favorite routine of the night was third on the list, after two songs that he _really_ hadn't minded missing. He had had adequate time to get prepared in the bathroom, shucking his normal jeans and shirt for the insanely sparkly pants and top he had found at the thrift store. He had taken a moment to review the lyrics (thank goodness he had taken English lessons for several years, because that was the language that the song was in and it would _not_ have been an easy task to remember the words without knowing what they meant at all), done a few practice shimmies, and then prowled back out to the living room just in time for the start of the song, all while fighting back the nerves in his stomach. He hadn't been expecting the extra presence of Alya's parents.

Now he was wishing that he had pulled together another routine to do. It would have been really fun.

The next few songs went by without too much excitement. Etta and Ella, inspired by Adrien's dance, pranced around to one of the more energetic songs, big grins on their faces. They tried to imitate the dancers on screen for the first minute before giving up and just improvising their way through the song.

"Okay, our turn," Alix announced as the next song came on. "Max! Up, up."

Max looked alarmed. "I- _what_?"

Alix only grinned and bounced up, setting her mostly empty plate aside. She yanked Max out of his seat, trying to get him to dance. He didn't look entirely comfortable. Adrien wasn't certain if it was just the dancing, or if it was the fact that Alix and Max (and Etta and Ella) were the only ones dancing while the rest of them just watched. Nino seemed to come to the same conclusion as Adrien at the same time, and so he pulled Alya out into the middle of the room to join the dance. Adrien turned to Marinette and tugged at her arm, hoping she would be willing to dance with him. It took a second, but then she was following Adrien into the middle of the room. Adrien grinned and started dancing with his friend. She was a little awkward, but considering that he couldn't dance unless he had a routine that he had copied, so was he. Things got a little squished as Rose and Juleka joined the rest of the group, but it only made things more fun.

"This is awesome," Adrien said with a grin as the music picked up. "Are you having fun?"

Marinette nodded. There was a slight pink tinge to her cheeks, but that could easily be attributed to excitement or the light from the Christmas lights hanging above them. "Yeah! It's definitely more fun with friends."

Adrien nodded and grinned in agreement. If he were listening alone again, there would be no dancing, no singing, no treats. He would have to try to get Nathalie to block off the Eurovision semifinals and finals next year so he could get to do this again. It would be too much to hope that he could host his friends- his father wouldn't approve of the gathering, and the Gorilla would no doubt hover and inadvertently put a damper on all of the fun- but visiting his friends' places was plenty fun.

The song ended and they all cheered as they returned to their seats. Adrien caught sight of Alya shooting Marinette a double thumbs-up for some reason as they sat down, but he ignored it as probably nothing important. He scooted over so he was pressed up against the armrest, letting Marinette have a little more room. Even though all of them were pretty small, the couch wasn't made to hold three teens and still have elbow room to spare. Even though he and Marinette had gotten a lot more comfortable around each other as the school year went on, Adrien didn't want to press things by being in Marinette's personal space bubble _too_ much.

"It's a good thing that we saw these performances in the semi-finals," Alix said with a snort as she bounced back up to go refill her plate. "Since we sort of haven't been watching them so much and all."

"Eh, dancing is more fun," Nino said, grinning as he joined her. "And really, don't we all already know what we're voting for?"

"I don't," Rose piped up. On the TV, the next postcard played. "I mean, I have a couple favorites, but I missed a few songs because I was in the bathroom suring the semifinals."

The rest of the performances went by in a flash. Nino warbled along to the first thirty seconds of the Ukrainian song before he cracked up too much to continue, Etta and Ella rocked out to the UK entry, and they all got up to dance along to the very last song.

"Well, now the fun part's over," Nino said mournfully, settling back onto the couch and laying his arm over the back. "Bugger."

"There's still the interval performance," Marinette pointed out. "That's...sometimes good."

"Real convincing argument there, Marinette," Nino snarked as the rest of the group giggled.

"There have been a couple really snooze-worthy performances," Marinette defended herself. "I mean, they're pretty good _most_ of the time."

"There _have_ been a couple years where they just have really slow songs," Adrien agreed. "Which I don't understand. Surely they know that the audience wants energy at this time of the night?"

"Maybe they don't want people to get too distracted from voting," Rose suggested.

"Maybe they should be more concerned about making sure that people don't fall asleep instead of voting," Alix suggested right back.

"Are we still talking about the interval act?" Alya asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought that referred to the stuff after voting closed and before country points came in."

They all puzzled over that for a moment.

"Either way, fun songs during both times is best," Alya decided. "...but I don't think we're gonna get it, at least not during the voting period. Look at that staging."

They looked. It didn't look promising.

"It's highly possible that the hosts didn't want to upstage this year's performers until after all of the votes are in," Max chimed in. He had his phone in hand, no doubt in the middle of trying to calculate the probability of each song winning. "An energetic song could induce dancing instead of voting, which would not be desirable."

Alix looked like she was about to comment on that when the song started. It was the previous year's singer again, back with a song that wasn't quite as dull as the staging would suggest.

"This isn't bad," Adrien commented as he voted for his favorite. The choice was a no-brainer, really- his favorite song of the evening was the one he had initially danced along to. A glance to the side told him that Marinette had a very similar taste in music. "I mean, it looks like people there are singing along."

"Makes sense; the singer is pretty popular over there," Alya said as she edged around her sisters to head for the snacks. "I think I recognize this song, but I couldn't sing along to it at all."

"The people next door clearly recognize it," Adrien said with a snicker. They could hear the neighbors belting out the lyrics. Some were better singers than others. "I mean, it _sounds_ like they're probably getting most of the words right."

"Oops, I think someone just messed up," Nino sniggered as there was a pause in the song and someone kept singing for a moment longer. An outcry from the others stopped the soloist before he could sing for too long. "Wow, just how much d'you think they've had to drink?"

"They're just naturally like this," Alya's mother informed Nino with a long-suffering sigh. "We've met them before and believe me, they don't need any help at all to get this rowdy."

"They're fun!" Etta piped up with a grin. "I like them! I wanna be just like them when I grow up!"

Her parents both groaned.

* * *

The interval act was full of glitter, racing drum beats, and energy, just as it was meant to be. It was an amazing act, and one that felt rather like a finale. Because then the lights faded, the dancers and singers vanished behind the stage again, and it was time for the countries to call in their votes.

"Who wants to bet that our call is gonna be from in front of the Eiffel Tower again?" Nino asked with a yawn. "They've only done it, what? Every year?"

"They need to mix it up," Alix agreed as the first country called in. "Wouldn't it be funny if Ladybug and Chat Noir swung through the frame during France's call? That would make things more interesting."

Alya perked up. "D'you think there's gonna be a Eurovision akuma? That would be so cool!"

Both Adrien and Marinette hid their groans. Neither of them particularly wanted to leave the party to go fight a spangly singing akuma turning Paris into a tacky disco ball.

"Given past experience with game shows and their tendencies to produce akuma, I would calculate the probability of a Eurovision akuma at 87%," Max said, tapping away at the calculator on his phone. "Possibly 88%."

"But those akumas were all people _on_ the show who lost," Adrien pointed out. "Not people watching the show on TV. There's less investment for people that are just watching, and all of the performers are several countries away. They aren't going to get akumatized."

He _hoped_ not, at least. It certainly had never happened before.

Max looked alarmed and then went back to frantically tapping out numbers. "Of course, of course! That definitely influences the numbers. So with that in mind, I would calculate the probability of an akuma at 22%."

Marinette frowned. "It's not even lower? Why?"

"I decided to take into account the akumas that pop up when someone's favorite sports team loses since the situation is closest to what we have now," Max explained, pushing his glasses up his nose. "There's most likely always someone upset at the end of a game, but Hawkmoth has not always taken advantage of the opportunity."

"Probably because there's only so many iterations on a theme that he can do before he runs out of ideas," Nino pointed out. He turned to Alya. "Have you ever looked at that kind of thing on the Ladyblog? The frequency of similarly-themed akumas over time?"

Alya shook her head. "That would be interesting, though. Maybe I'll do that once the school year is over."

"I can help with the analysis," Max volunteered. "It would be interesting."

"Well, I certainly hope that there isn't an akuma tonight," Mrs. Césaire said firmly. "Ladybug and Chat Noir probably would appreciate a break from fighting akumas. If they're watching Eurovision, they probably don't want to get interrupted any more than any of you would."

" _I_ think that an akuma would be more interesting than this," Etta said loudly as another country called in. The caller was taking their sweet time with announcing the points and since the younger girls didn't know any English (and the French announcer wasn't translating the small talk), they were understandably bored. "Is there gonna be more glitter?"

"Not for a while," Mr. Césaire said.

The twins blinked up at their father. "How long is a while?" Ella wanted to know. "Five minutes? Ten minutes?"

"An hour, about," Mr. Césaire answered, making both twins whine. "Maybe more. And then they'll play the winning song one more time and then it's all over until next year."

"And the song that wins might not be one of the ones you liked a lot," Mrs. Césaire added. "See, the one winning right now is the one you said was stupid."

The twins exchanged a glance and then turned identical pouts on their parents. "That's boring! We don't wanna watch that!"

"That's fine. It's nearly your bedtime anyway. Say good-night to Alya's friends." Mrs. Césaire got up and started ushering the girls out of the room. "And we do have this recording, so you two can listen to the winning song tomorrow if you want."

"Good night!" the twins chorused, and then they were off, racing each other down the hallway to their room. Mrs. Césaire followed them, with Mr. Césaire not far behind. They turned to wave to the group, and all of the teens waved back.

"Now back to the votes," Nino said with a sigh, leaning back on the couch. "...at least we still have loads of treats. I'm gonna need some serious sugar to get through this."

"It _is_ a bit boring, isn't it?" Adrien couldn't remember much of the voting from other years, which probably meant that he just turned the program off after the intermission show and went to bed. His parents had probably made him go to bed before the voting finished, so there was no point in listening to any of it. Based on what he was seeing so far, he _really_ hadn't missed out on much.

"Just a bit, yeah." Nino was already over by the table of snacks, piling treats on his plate. Apparently he was quite serious about eating a lot of sugar to get through the voting. Adrien briefly considered what his father would say if he ate the same amount that Nino clearly was planning to, and then he decided that he didn't care. If he was going to be at a Eurovision party, he wanted the full experience. If that meant nearly making himself sick on sugar, then so be it.

...okay, maybe he wouldn't go _that_ far. Getting sick was no fun and it was hard to hide from Nathalie. But he would eat _far_ more sugar than his father would approve of, and he would enjoy every bite.

Just like he would enjoy every last minute of this party.

* * *

Chat Noir adjusted the bag on his back before peering out from behind the chimney. He could see Ladybug up on the Eiffel Tower, no doubt waiting for him to show up, but he still had a few minutes yet before he could really be considered late. He ducked back behind the chimney, dropping the bag to the roof and crouching to dig through it to pull out the glittery outfit he had packed.

Eurovision might be over, but Chat Noir wanted to repeat his song and dance routine for his Lady. He was _paw_ -sitive that her expression would be just as funny as the one on Marinette's face when he first burst out singing at the party. He had been nervous about the idea when he first came up with it, because he _had_ already done the routine for his friends and _what if someone saw Chat Noir doing it too and posted it on the Internet_ , but then his favorite song had won the contest and _everybody_ was singing it. Adrien had even heard Kim humming the tune under his breath the previous day at school. It wouldn't be at all out of place at all for one of Paris' superheroes to be mimicking the winning entry, so he had bought another ridiculous jacket and downloaded the song onto his baton.

As he poked his head out again, this time with the spangly jacket in place, Chat Noir spotted Alya on the ground below the Eiffel Tower, no doubt waiting for a bit of footage of him and Ladybug on patrol or perhaps hoping for a spontaneous interview. He thanked his past self for having the foresight to get a different outfit than the one he had worn as Adrien to his friends' Eurovision party. He _definitely_ didn't want to be outed as Chat Noir because of a _Eurovision outfit_ , of all things. Plagg would never let him live it down.

With one last check to make sure nothing would snag, Chat Noir vaulted onto the Eiffel Tower and landed smoothly behind Ladybug. Before she really had time to react, he punched _play_ and the music blared out into the night.

He sang. He danced. He shimmied around his partner, who looked torn between laughter and bemusement. He had to modify a few steps, of course- the tower's beams weren't exactly the most optimal setting for a dance performance- but Chat Noir was fairly certain that he had kept the spirit of the performance intact. Judging by Ladybug's laughter, she agreed.

"You're a dork," Ladybug told him, even as Alya whooped and cheered from down below. She was wrestling with her smile, but it was winning. "A grade-A dork."

Chat Noir grinned at her. "But am I at least a Eurovision-worthy dork?"

"Well, I don't know if your caterwauling is _quite_ TV-worthy," Ladybug said, grinning at the way Chat Noir pouted at her in mock offense."But I mean...I _suppose_ the dance maybe wasn't _completely_ terrible."

* * *

 _A/N: As with most of my fics, this is a one-shot and is therefore complete._

 _Please leave reviews, they really make my day! :)_


End file.
